


The Toymaker

by Bullseyegames



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot
Genre: Endless flashbacks, Everyone Trying Their Best, F/F, F/M, Grief, Human AU, M/M, Mourning, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Quaxo trying his best, Royalty AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bullseyegames/pseuds/Bullseyegames
Summary: When a young magician loses his mother, he finds himself searching through his memories for a way to move forward. Lost in the mysteries of his childhood and a kingdom on edge, he discovers dark curses beyond comprehension and creates things that defy explanation. A story of love, loss, and the beautiful things we create from them.
Comments: 21
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ITS HAPPENING! AFTER YEARS OF IDLENESS I'VE FINALLY MADE A THING! Ok so, I just want to thank everyone on Tumblr who encouraged me to actually go through with this. You are are wonderful and there are no words to accurately describe how grateful I am for all your support!
> 
> I plan to update this hot mess at least once a week, and (if all goes well) this will be a three book series at least. This is my way of saying if you don’t see your favorite cat in this book don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten them they exist somewhere in this mess of a universe. :3
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this creation of mine! Love you all so much!

The day was beautiful. After a week of rainfall the sun had finally managed to poke through the clouds, illuminating the damp world below in a gentle glow. The grass shimmered as the sunlight caught the drops of dew clinging on to the frail blades, and the trees rustled gently in the warm breeze. April showers had, as was often said, brought May flowers and the garden was blossoming beautifully. The ivy climbing the white stone walls was a vibrant green and rustled slightly as a hand idly rubbed a leaf between its fingers. A pair of birds fluttered past the window that he sat in, chasing and playing as the bright day allowed. Yes, Quaxo had to admit the day was truly beautiful. It had been the perfect weather for the funeral.

Quaxo Jones sat in the window nook as he stared at the beautiful scene before him, an image brimming with joy on a day that made him feel anything but. He pressed the leaf between his thumb and index finger, feeling the smooth surface and tracing his thumb along the thin veins. He didn’t look at the plant, closing his eyes quietly and envisioning the dark green color with pale white edges. He had sat on this sill so many times, savored the sunlight and the flowers and the birds as they fluttered by… but he had never taken the time to notice the ivy. He lost himself in this nonsense thought, as if analyzing every leaf and every stalk could stop time and keep him in this moment. This beautiful moment where he could almost forget why he was here. Why he was here and why she wasn’t.

Lost in this trance he didn't notice the young woman standing quietly in the doorway until she gently wrapped her knuckles on the frame. Quaxo jumped as he quickly turned his head, only to relax as he recognized the gentle smile of his sister. Victoria’s hair was pulled back into a tight bun, it had been partially supporting the black bonnet that was now held loosely in her hand. The black dress was stiffer than what she usually wore, she had needed to take it out of a box in the attic and it had required very hasty alterations to make it even remotely presentable. Victoria never wore black before and now Quaxo understood why, it made her look dreadfully formal. The sleeves went to her elbows and the skirt went to the floor, covering her black boots that she had trudged in through the muddy cemetery. Small splotches of mud dotted the lace edge of the skirt but Quaxo figured she didn't mind much, she probably planned to burn the damn thing once this was all over. 

Despite the dreary attire Victoria still wore a gentle smile on her face as she stood at the precipice of the room, looking at Quaxo expectantly for a moment before quietly speaking, “I heard you wanted to be alone but… well I was hoping we could be alone together.”.

Quaxo couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his face, his sister never failed to make the room just a little bit brighter. He shifted in his seat to bring his legs down to the floor, reaching down to straighten his vest as he pushed his discarded jacket onto the floor to make room. Victoria stayed in the doorway, watching as her brother stiffly shifted his position and patiently waiting for verbal confirmation. After a moment Quaxo looked up at her with a tired smile, “there’s no one I’d rather be alone with more.”.

Vicky’s smile grew at that, shutting the door behind her and dropping the bonnet on the floor besides Quaxo’s jacket. She approached the small window nook, taking a seat where the jacket once resided and sitting quietly. For a moment neither of the siblings spoke, not an awkward silence but an accepting one. A quiet realization of just how strange this seemingly normal picture was. After a few more moments Victoria gingerly bends over to take off one of her boots, letting out an over dramatic sigh of relief as she removes it, “ohhh everlasting that feels good! Why did the only black boots in the attic have to be two sizes too small?!”.

Quaxo tried to put a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter, but quickly found the effort to be pointless as he doubled over. He glanced up at Victoria and only laughed harder as he saw the shocked and playfully insulted look on her face, “Don’t laugh you ass! I couldn’t even fidget as people were coming by to shake my hand. It hurt so much I felt like it was carving off my heel! I was sinking, genuinely sinking into the mud beneath me like it was actual quicksand! You’re lucky you know that? Everything fit you just fine Mr. only-wears-black, your wardrobe was practically designed for days like this!”.

As Quaxo laughed himself silly he internally admitted she was right. His wardrobe was a sea of black and gray, with small patches of color only visible on a few select ties and vests. The fanciest thing in his closet would have to be the black silk bow tie he was currently wearing. The bow tie that Victoria had given him two years ago for his birthday. Victoria always had a much more keen fashion sense than him, but he didn’t really care that much about his attire most of the time. His fashion sense may not have been the most grand, but at least it was consistent. 

Quaxo blinked back to reality as he felt Victoria’s gloved fingers snake through his black curls, an exasperated look still on her face as she continued her rant, “I mean you didn’t even bathe last night! Least you could have done was grease your hair and match with Uncle Bustopher! But nooo you just had to be your usual low maintenance self and make me suffer in these torture device shoes and ugly dress alone.”.

Victoria slid off the bench and leaned back with a huff, pouting as she listened to Quaxo’s uproarious laughter quiet down into breathless giggles. Quaxo calmed his breathing down as he slid down to join his sister on the floor. He noticed her turning further away every time he tried to meet her eyes, and gave an exasperated sigh before he silently relented, “well, I suppose if you don’t want to talk to me you won't want any… bonbons?”.

Immediately Victoria turned back over her eyes wide as she smiled eagerly. Quaxo nearly burst out laughing again, but held it back as he pulled his jacket into his lap. He glanced up at Victoria with a coy look in his eyes before reaching into the pocket and pulling the lining out to reveal it was empty. He could see her blue eyes momentarily blink in confusion before she quickly realized what was about to happen. She smiled eagerly as Quaxo showed her both sides of the jacket, feeling around to show no hidden secrets or pockets. After thoroughly showing off the garments on every surface Quaxo pushed the lining back into the pocket, shuffling his fingers around for a moment before pulling out his closed fist. Carefully opening it up revealed that it was full of several small circular candy spheres, all different colors to indicate the variety of fruity fillings within each shell. 

Quaxo could only momentarily admire the successful trick before Victoria quickly reached over and snatched four of the small spheres out his hand. She popped a pink one into her mouth, humming happily as the taste of strawberries flooded her senses. She let out a satisfied sigh as she savored the flavor, not even bothering to finish the first before she popped in a second, “why on earth don’t you sell these Quaxo? You could buy hundreds of fanciest black coats with the money you’d make from these.”.

Quaxo only smiled as he offered her a light purple sphere, playfully grinning as Vicky popped the grape flavored ball in her mouth without hesitation, “if I did that Vicky, then I would never be able to make enough for you.”.

Victoria gave him a silent glare, but did not make any moves to protest his statement. So they sat there on the floor, quietly popping fruity candy into their mouths for a moment. Victoria glanced around the room. She let out a sigh, closing her eyes as she leaned back and took a deep inhale of breath. Quaxo watched this and moved to do the same, leaning his head back against the cushion of the window nook and inhaling the scent of the bedroom. Lavender makeup power, chamomile tea, and the smell of freshly folded linens seemed to fill the space as they danced over Quaxo’s nose tauntingly. For a moment he hesitated to open his eyes, fearing the disappointment that would come from looking at the empty bed that had been occupied less than a week ago. Thankfully he didn't need to voice his thoughts, as usually Victoria did it for him, “I understand why you came in here to get away from everyone. It still smells like her… Lavender and Soap.”.

Quaxo blinked his eyes open slowly as he turned his head to look at her. Victoria quietly stared at the empty bed, the thoughts going through her head undoubtedly similar to the ones going through his own. He sighed quietly as he glanced about the room, the pale purple walls and light wood floors bringing back so many beautiful memories. He noticed Victoria’s hand laying idly by her side and moved to place his own hand on top of it. He smiled as she interlocked her fingers with his, speaking quietly as he gave it a gentle squeeze, “mother always did have the best taste.”.

Quaxo had spent months in this room, sitting by her side as her strength slowly faded. She had lasted longer than any other, the illness that took some in days didn't take her for two years. He had sat in this little nook, letting in fresh air and reading to her while she sewed and folded clothes to pass the hours. Lavender powder to hide the smell of sickness, laundered clothes to make the room feel cleaner, and endless cups of chamomile tea to soothe an endlessly burning throat. For two years she had survived against an illness with no cure, a plague with no treatment. But these smells were truly only preventative measures. Small things that brought a few more seconds every day, giving her that extra bit of hope even as everything seemed destined to end. It was destined to end of course, for no matter how many little things Quaxo did the one big thing that truly mattered eventually failed her.

Small tears began to gather in Quaxo’s eyes as he stared at the empty bed, a swell of guilt building up in his throat to the point where it hurt. Victoria must have noticed the grimace on his face, noticed how desperately he was trying to hold it all in, for almost immediately after her arms found themselves around his shoulders. He leaned into the embrace as he let go, allowing the painful guilt to release itself. Despite the sudden release of pressure and pain, all that came out was a whimper. A ghost of a sound that brought everything down with it, tears streaming down his face as he buried it into the black lace sleeves of the hideous dress. Quiet whimpering sobs escaping him as his voice broke free, “I… I’m s-sorry Vicky… I tried, I tried so hard I… I tried…”.

Victoria quietly shushed him, though he could feel her hands tremble as she brushed them through his black curls. She held him close, rocking him gently as her own tears fell. He felt so… so small sitting here like this, desperately apologizing for his own failures. Apologizing for the death of their mother. He should have been stronger, he should have tried harder, he should have… he should have. 

After a few moments Quaxo’s sobs quieted to soft hiccups as he clutched his sister tightly, shifting with a start as he felt her pull away. She gave him a shaky smile, the tears running down her face ruining what little makeup she had on. She gently pressed her forehead to his as she whispered to him, almost as if she was afraid he would shatter if she spoke too loudly, “When mother fell ill we all feared the worst, thinking she would drift away like… like flour falling through our fingers. So many others were gone in a matter of hours but you… you gave us two years. You dropped out of university and spent hours risking everything by sitting in this nook to give us two years Quaxo.”.

She paused, as if struggling to find the correct words to project her thoughts and emotions as they raced through her. Eventually, she settled for a firm hug and breathless whisper, “thank you Quax… thank you for giving us time to say goodbye.”.

Quaxo felt breathless for a moment, body trembling as he weakly wrapped his arms around his younger sister. They didn't say anything else, holding each other tightly as they took in the comforting smell of their mother. The scent of a ghost, a memory.

They would have stayed like that forever if not for the sound of the door creaking open. They turned together, glancing up at the figure that filled the doorway. He was a large familiar man, dressed in a black suit very similar to Quaxo’s albeit less worn out. Small gold rimmed circular glasses sat on his face, highlighting the large black mustache below it. A wooden cane was clasped in his left hand and his right was busy tucking away a gold pocket watch. He gently ran a hand over his slicked back hair as he stared at the two, before clearing his throat to speak, “put your bits and bobs back on the… the lawyer is in my office for the reading and we ought to look proper for it.”.

Reluctantly, but without hesitation, Quaxo untangled himself from Victoria. He quickly scooped up her bonnet and his own jacket while she started to shove on her too tight boots again. Before she could Quaxo reached into his pocket, there was a small flash of light as he casually removed a roll of bandages that were lightly coated in familiar sparkles. Victoria gratefully took them and expertly wrapped them around her ankles before slipping the boots back on. As they stood to leave Bustopher’s large frame blocked the door, he pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Victoria. She blinked in confusion before glancing in the mirror and realizing what state her makeup was in. She quickly took the handkerchief, rushing to the mirror to wipe away as much of the mess as possible before sheepishly handing back the small piece of fabric, “thank you uncle.”.

Bustopher carefully tucked the kerchief in his pocket as he looked the two over, checking for even a hair out of place. Seemingly satisfied with their appearance he gave them each a pat on the back before standing aside, “alright now remember: brave faces, straight backs, proper language. You are members of the Jones family and we need to show our resolve in the face of fear. Right? Right. Toodle pip lets go.”.

So like soldiers they marched towards the office, towards their future, towards a moment they had dreaded all week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave any thoughts, critiques, or opinions below! If you have any questions feel free to send me an ask on tumblr at @bullseyegames! I update once a week so... see you soon! :3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! Before you read I just want to say thank you to everyone who has given me encouragement and kudos on both tumblr and here on Ao3. It means the world to me and I'm so happy you all are enjoying this so far! Also this chapter features on of my OC's so that's fun! With that out of the way, enjoy the chapter! :3

The trio made their way downstairs with trepidation to say the least. They had walked these halls many times before, but it didn't take more than a sideways glance to notice the tension they carried. Quaxo felt his stomach sinking as they made their way down the hall, walking towards the moment he had been dreading since he woke up this morning. When people had been shaking his hand and offering condolences, it had not felt real. When he had placed a rose on the large dark oak box, it had not felt real. Now though, standing like a statue outside of the entrance to the office to hear his mother’s last wishes, Quaxo felt like he was going to be sick. This… this was real, this was too real. 

Quaxo reached out a trembling hand to the door, but found that he couldn’t bring himself to grab the brass knob. Any sense of composure or control was quickly fading as the trembling got worse, for a moment he genuinely feared he would ruin the carpets beneath him with the contents of his stomach. He nearly jumped out of his skin as a black gloved hand gripped his, he had forgotten for a moment that he wasn't alone in the hallway. He looked up at Victoria, not even bothering to hide the terror in his blue eyes as he stared at her. She squeezed his hand quietly, that same gentle smile gracing her pale face as she offered Quaxo silent comfort. As the trembling began to calm the pair turned at the sound of a cough, remembering their Uncle standing patiently behind them. Bustopher gave a Quaxo a smile and a firm pat on the shoulder, offering comfort but also urging him to move forward. Quaxo gave his Uncle a sheepish smile before turning back to the door, reaching forward with more conviction this time as he managed to actually grab the handle. A breath, then two, and finally the customary click as Quaxo pushed opened the door.

Much like the man who worked in it, the office was organized and meticulous. Bustopher Jones was never a man to flounder about or second guess himself, his place of work was designed to match that precision. The large maple wood desk sat squarely in the center of the room, allowing ample space to move around it should one desire. Tucked behind the desk was a large red leather armchair befitting a man of Bustopher’s size and neatly tucked in front were two smaller chairs befitting most who would come to visit or inquire for his help. The back wall of the office featured two built in bookshelves framing the center wall where medals from an extensive naval service were hung. Bustopher had, regrettably, only spent twenty three years in the navy before he was discharged due to injury, but the shining ornaments decorating the back wall showed he had truly made the most of that time. 

A large window on the left wall combined with the small chandelier in the ceiling provided plenty of light to illuminate the workspace, and allowed ample viewing of the thin man currently organizing a pile of various papers across the desk. Quaxo couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face seeing the man, feeling it brighten as the man looked up from his papers to notice the new inhabitant of the room, “Ah the Jones children. My friends, it has been far too long.”.

Quaxo happily approached the man and Victoria loosely released her fingers to allow for the sudden movement. Quaxo would have gone for a hug, but the professionalism of the room and the event he had just walked into dulled his greeting down to a simple handshake, “It’s wonderful to see you Alister, though I sincerely wish it was under more pleasant circumstances.”. 

Alister was a thin pale man only slightly taller than Quaxo. His pale blond hair was streaked with gray in several areas despite the fact that he had only breached the thirty year mark of life less than a few months ago. His gray suit and vest were well fitted and seemingly brand new, deeply contrasting the faded and worn green tie that graced his collar. Alister had been a friend of mother’s since he was a young boy, and had acted as a familial lawyer for several different financial matters over the years. Quaxo recalled nearly a year ago when he had come to finalize the will with mother, despite Quaxo himself insisting it wasn’t necessary due to her seemingly improving health. Quaxo was silently thankful for her stubbornness now, though he remembered how much he had fretted throughout the day being forced to stay outside of the room for the procedure. 

Despite the fact Quaxo had been curious about what his mother would say then, he felt uncertain now that he was about to find out. A part of Quaxo had silently hoped he wouldn’t have to find out so soon. He was stirred out of his thoughts as Alister gave his still outstretched hand a gentle squeeze, a small sad smile on his face as he looked at the trio, “I am terribly sorry for your loss, all of you. I knew Ophelia for most of my life, she was a wonderful woman and I know she cared about all of you very much. I will try my best to make this as quick and painless as possible.”.

Quaxo nodded in thanks, giving the man's hand a final squeeze before moving to allow Bustopher to sit. The man did not move to sit though, shaking his head slightly and gesturing for Quaxo to sit instead. Bustopher was stubborn when it came to his injured leg but… this wasn’t that. Quaxo quickly realized this reading was most likely going to be very difficult, especially for him and Victoria, perhaps being seated would be best. Sighing quietly he gave his Uncle a reluctant nod before lowering himself into one of the leather chairs while Victoria did the same. The siblings instantly reached for each other's hands, holding firmly as they watched Alister awkwardly seat himself in the far too large armchair on the opposite side of the desk.

Alister carefully picked up a wax sealed envelope, holding it up with immense care and almost reverence as everyone stared at it with anticipation. Alister took a breath before speaking, “Within this envelope is the last will and testament of Ophelia Jones, signed and sealed over a year ago. It has not been opened since it was finalized, no changes have been made.”.

Quaxo held his breath as Alister reached for a small letter opener, pressing the slightly dull blade against the wax seal. With a small amount of effort Alister managed to break the seal, carefully placing the opener down before opening the envelope and revealing the pages hidden within. Quaxo squeezed Victoria’s hand tightly as Alister carefully placed a pair of silver rimmed reading glasses on his face, shuffling the papers slightly before he began to read, “I, Ophelia Jones, being of sound mind and body do hereby state that this document is my last will and testament to be acknowledged and followed after I pass from this world.”.

Quaxo felt himself shudder as he heard the words, his hands trembling within Victoria’s grasp as he heard the words. Quaxo never did well with death, to hear the words his mother had prepared for them, for him, in the event of her death it… it didn't sit well. He barely had a moment to acknowledge these thoughts as Alister continued, “It is my wish that only four should be present for its reading, my lawyer Alister, my brother Sir Bustopher Jones and my beloved children Victoria and Quaxo Jones. With this consideration in mind, my requests are as follows…”.

Alister carefully shuffled the papers, glancing up at the three people before him with a small reassuring smile before he turned back down to the written words, “All of my personal belongings including clothing, jewelry, and otherwise belong to my brother Bustopher as he has purchased them for me these many years. All the possessions of my children belong to them as they were purchased with my own money…”.

Bustopher looked up with a flustered expression, eyes wide with a familiar frustration as he heard the words, “excuse me?! This is ridiculous! I have told her for years that anything I purchased for her belonged to her and her alone I can’t possib-.”.

Bustopher was cut off as Alister quietly held up his hand to silence him, giving him a knowing look before continuing, “In the event that my brother INSISTS that these possessions were mine and mine alone, it is my wish that all of these possessions be given to my brother to do with as he wishes. Whether it be selling them, giving them away, or keeping them in the event he should ever meet a lovely lady that catches his eye.”.

Bustopher stammered for a moment before giving a frustrated sigh, though it was clear by the blush on his cheeks that Ophelia had certainly hit him where it hurt. Quaxo and Victoria couldn’t help but giggle, their mother was known for her stubbornness and dedication to getting exactly what she wanted. It seemed only natural that her will would do the same, even if it meant embarrassing her older brother one last time. A stern look from Bustopher silenced the siblings, who quickly turned back to Alister with sheepish smiles on their faces. Alister also wore a bright smile, though the look from Bustopher quickly made him return to a very professional neutrality. He flipped to the next page as he continued, “In regards to my finances, it is my wish that my wealth be divided evenly among my two children so they may use it as they wish. I entrust that Alister can ensure this happens as quickly and efficiently as possible.”.

Alister looked up at the twins and gave them a gentle nod, “In accordance with your mother's wishes I have already begun the process of transferring the proper funds into each of your accounts, the process should be completed by Wednesday. Should you have any questions or requests regarding this I will be happy to discuss with you after we are finished.”. The siblings nodded, they had already assumed the finances would be transferred to them and they certainly had no problem splitting the money. Should either of them eventually require more money they could always negotiate between themselves, though that was unlikely considering neither owned any property or businesses.

As if reading their mind Alister looked back down to the will as he continued, “To my dear Victoria…”. The queen in question looked up in shock, squeezing Quaxo’s hand tightly as the will now addressed her directly, “... my beautiful ballerina, I have been so overjoyed watching your talents develop and grow over your lifetime. Your grace is unmatched and your beauty is unrivaled, but more so your hard work and dedication cannot be overstated. I know how you would come home from your ballet classes at the academy exhausted, only to wrap your ankles and go out to teach dance lessons of your own to save money to one day buy a studio for yourself. Though I know you wished to accomplish this by yourself, I hope you forgive me for meddling as mothers tend to do.”.

Quaxo watched as Victoria pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp, the realization of what was about to happen hitting them and causing him to smile brightly, “To you my dearest Victoria, I give the empty building on Pearl Street. When I first purchased it I had hoped to build a dress shop inside, but now that I think more clearly I can’t think of a better place to create a dance studio. It will take time and it will take work, but there is no doubt in my mind that you will turn that brick husk into something extraordinary.”.

Victoria let out a muffled sob as she pressed her hand tighter over her mouth, desperately trying to maintain any sense of composure. Alister gave her a small smile as he pulled out a small wooden box, sliding it across the desk to sit in front of her. “Within this box is all legal documents pertaining to the property on Pearl Street, including the deed and other ownership papers. Also here…” he said, quickly reaching over and pulling a small silver key from his bag and handing it to her, “is the key to the building itself. It is yours to do with as you wish.”.

Victoria shakily reached out for the key, taking it into her hand and pressing it close to her chest as she blinked tears from her eyes. She looked up at Quaxo with an almost stunned look in her eyes before a shaky laugh escaped her, a small smile growing on her face as a few stray tears slipped from her eyes. She turned back to Alister with a warm smile as she carefully brushed away the tears with the fabric of her gloves, “thank you… thank you so much.”.

Quaxo smiled as he watched Victoria, a dream she had had since she was a child finally fully in sight. Quaxo stood reaching out a hand towards Alister to shake, “Alister thank you so much for doing this for us, I know it meant the world to mother and it means the world to us as well-.”.

Alister quickly cut Quaxo off, blinking in surprise as he remained seated, “now hold on a minute Quaxo we’re not done yet. While I appreciate the sentiment of your words, there’s still one more page in the will to read.”. 

Quaxo froze, stunned for a moment before confusion grew on his face as he stared at Alister. As far as Quaxo knew, mother's only possessions were the items in this house, the money she had in the bank, and the unfinished store on Pearl Street. Could there possibly be something else? What could there possibly be? His confusion clearly written across his face, Alister gave him a small smile before he clarified further, “I suggest you sit down for this part in particular Quaxo it’s... it's about you.”.

Quaxo took a shaky inhale of breath, slowly lowering himself back into his chair and barely flinching as Victoria quickly took his hand. If Quaxo had looked he would have noticed his confusion was matched on her face, but he didn't. His eyes were stuck on the piece of paper in Alister’s hand, on it the last words of his mother. Her last words for him.

Alister gently cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, and continued reading, “Finally for Quaxo, my darling Quaxo. The spark of my life and the joy of my every waking moment. You who have been there for me in my darkest and brightest moments. You who have sacrificed everything so that your sister could pursue her dreams without worry while you stayed by my side as my health faded. My darling son, there was so much in life I wish I could have given to you but never had the nerve or the strength. I hope now in death, I can finally follow through.”.

Quaxo didn't tremble or shake, a starstruck expression covering his face almost as if he were in a trance. He hung on every word, desperate for every sound that escaped Alister’s mouth, “I remember when you were barely two, you would sneak up to the attic of our old home and stare at the lights reflecting off of the stained glass window. Do you remember those lights Quaxo? You had such a look of joy when you danced in those colorful lights, a look I have not seen since we left that house so many years ago...”.

Quaxo felt a few tears trailing down his cheeks, memories long thought forgotten slowly flooding his senses as he remembered the rainbow lights that dazzled him once upon a time. He felt his heart ache as he remembered that joy he once knew, the joy he had lost so long ago. He felt himself wake from this daze in a start upon Alister’s next words, “...I hope, I wish, I pray that you will be able to find that joy again when you return there.”.

Victoria quietly gasped and Quaxo felt the chair squeak slightly as Bustopher's firm hand squeezed tightly on the leather surface, “For that is what I leave you, my son. My love, my light, my wonderful magician, I leave you the manor.”.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3! This is one of my favorite chapters I've written so far and I really hope you all enjoy it! Stay safe everyone! :3

_ “And just adjust this piece right here and… there! Quick quick quick press it!”, Quaxo took the small metal contraption out of his father’s hands with an excited smile, gently pressing the small button on it’s side. A sweet melody began to play as the metal orb blossomed open like a flower, revealing a beautiful ballerina dressed like a flower within. The sweet melody spread throughout the garden as the tiny boy frantically tried to push his excessive black curls aside to fully look at the creation his father had made. The man in question had his arms happily wrapped around the tiny boy sitting in his lap, watching his starstruck expression with satisfaction. As the melody ended the orb gently closed once again, until everything sealed back together with a satisfying click.  _

_ There was a moment of silence before Quaxo began wiggling with excitement, laughing happily as he turned to tackle his father with the biggest hug his tiny arms could manage. His father laughed, allowing Quaxo to push him back onto the grass with an exaggerated ‘oof’. The pair's laughter was quickly noted as mother approached wearing a beautiful white gown with a full skirt and yellow sash. The small white bundle in her arms had a similarly yellow bow, and she cradled it carefully as she approached. She smiled warmly at the two lying on the grass, but her tone was strict as she chastised them, “Oh for goodness sake James get up! The photographer will be ready any moment and I don’t want you or Quaxo to have grass stains all over you when he takes the photo!”. _

_ Jameson looked up at her with an exasperated look, glancing down at his dark grey suit and yellow tie before speaking up at his wife with a playfully insulted tone, “and what, may I ask you, is wrong with having a little green on one’s attire? It shows those hoity toities in the city that we country folks are capable of having fun! Isn’t that right Quaxo?”. _

_ Quaxo nodded happily as he sniffled slightly, rearing his head back as he let out a tiny sneeze. A few stray sparkles flew out of his mouth followed by every loose strand of grass on the lawn flying up into the air, getting caught in everyones hair and clinging to their fancy picture clothes. A few stray pieces of grass fell into the opening of the white bundle and a cute little sneeze was heard from within, though without the aforementioned grass tornado. Mother gasped and quickly began brushing grass off of her large skirt, which only served to lightly stain the white dress. Father laughed out loud at the exasperated look on her face, rolling backwards as Quaxo gently brushed his nose with the sleeve of his light gray suit.  _

_ Mother looked down at Quaxo with a stunned look, though she couldn't obtain her laughter at the spectacle that just took place, “Quaxo Jones look what your magic did to my dress! Oh dear and it got on little Victoria to the poor dear. Now what do you have to say for yourself little magician?”. _

_ Quaxo blinked for a moment before running up and pressing a hug into the large poofy skirt, looking up at his mother as he sniffled quietly, “I’m sorry mommy…”. The woman gently knelt down, not even bothering to worry about grass stains anymore, and held up the small bundle so Quaxo could look to the blond haired baby within. He gently reached out to brush a few stray pieces of grass away before leaning forward to give the baby girl a kiss on the head, “Sorry Victoria…”. _

_ An idea popped into Quaxo’s head as he quickly held up the metal orb to the baby, gently pressing the button as he held it out to her, “Look Victoria! Daddy made this for us for when he goes away!”. The gentle melody began to play again, a beautiful sound that echoed throughout the garden’s as the orb once more blossomed open. Little Victoria reacted to the noise, her blue eyes blinking open as she stared at the twirling ballerina in awe. She cooed as she gently reached out towards the figure, a small smile on her face as her blue eyes sparkled in wonder. Ophelia smiled brightly as she stared at the creation, tearing her eyes away to look at James with a small smile, “Oh my love… you have outdone yourself…”. _

_ James smiled as he quickly crawled over, kneeling beside the trio as they stared with adoring eyes at the small creation. He turned her head to give Ophelia a warm kiss before he spoke, “nothing is too special or complex for my family. By the time I get back I’ll have made something far more impressive than a simple music box, just you wait.”. _

_ As the contraption slowly closed up again, they heard a trudging sound as a man approached from across the lawn. A boy followed behind him, struggling to carry the large camera with him, “Well then Mr and Mrs Jones, where do ya want this photo taken then?”. _

_ The pair looked at each other for a moment, silently communicating before Ophelia turned back to the photographer, “if you wouldn’t mind taking it right here, that would be lovely.”. The photographer nodded, Quickly moving to set up the camera so that the large red brick manor would be in the background of the shot. Ophelia quickly sat up straighter, adjusting herself so Victoria’s bright blue eyes would be clearly seen in the final photograph. James adjusted himself to be on one knee on the grass, one hand placed on the shoulder of his wife on his left, and the other placed on a standing Quaxo on his right. Quaxo stood as straight as he could leaning into his father’s hand and proudly holding the now closed metal orb in his cupped hands. A gentle breeze blew by, fluffing his curly black hair and revealing his smiling face as the camera flashed… _

Quaxo blinked his eyes open as the sound of speaking shook him out of the memory, hand flexing hopefully to try and touch the comforting grass but only getting a handful of red leather. Barely a moment had passed since Alister had uttered those words, the words of his mother’s last wish for him.

_ ‘I leave you the manor’ _

A time and place he thought lost to him forever now belonged to him… she wanted him to go back. His focus quickly shifted as he realized there was a conversation happening around him, specifically one coming primarily from Uncle Busopher towards Alister, “Alister what… what did you just say?”. Alister for his part looked just as confused as Quaxo felt, carefully responding to Bustopher and noting the sudden tension in the room, “umm… ahem… ‘My love, my light, my wonderful magician, I leave you the manor’. I umm… is there a problem Sir Bustopher?”.

Bustopher seemed flustered, more flustered than when the will suggested he get a girlfriend, and carefully pulled out his handkerchief to dab at his now sweaty brow. He blinked at Alister’s question for a moment before responding, “n-no nothing… nothing is wrong with Quaxo inheriting the manor. It’s just… I was under the impression that Opehlia had sold the manor a very long time ago. No one has lived there since James...”. There was an audible pause in the room, an unspoken grief that suddenly weighed down on Victoria and Quaxo. Bustopher cleared his throat quietly, “..since their father disappeared at sea. That was twenty years ago Alister and I know for certain Ophelia never went back there I just… I just assumed…”.

Alister nodded quietly, slowly beginning to understand why Bustopher and the Jones children appeared so confused. Quaxo was still in a state of stunned silence, staring at the dried mud on his shoes as a dazed question escaped his lips, “Is there… do you have the deed?”.

That stopped all conversation, as Quaxo felt all eyes in the room fall on Alister who seemed to stiffen at the question. He nervously swallowed before he spoke, “a-actually I… I do not have the deed or any documents relating to the home in my possession. Ophelia showed them to me of course but… she refused to give them to me.”. Quaxo felt like his heart was being bounced around in his body, moving from hope to confusion to simple frustration.

Bustopher mirrored this frustration, his large frame stepping out from behind the small armchair to stare incedulously at Alister, “If you don’t have the deed, then where pray tell is it?”. Alister visibly shrank under Bustopher’s stern glare, locking eyes with him for a moment before he turned desperately to Quaxo. There was an almost pleading look in his eyes as he stared at him, clearly intimidated by Bustopher’s menacing silhouette, “w-well Sir Bustopher… she informed me that Quaxo would know where it was being kept.”. 

All eyes immediately shifted to Quaxo, who instinctively shrank at the sudden attention. Quaxo didn’t have stage fright persay, but he hated when people set such high expectations for him. Especially when they were expectations he couldn’t fulfill, “I-I’m sorry, but mother never told me anything about the deed to the manor I… I had almost forgotten it had existed at all.”.

The disappointment in the room was audible, quiet sighs and sinking shoulders that made Quaxo cringe. He felt Victoria take his hand gently once more, but he didn’t even bother squeezing back. Alister furrowed his brow, as if racking his brain for even the smallest detail he had missed, “she… she told me it was in the one place no one ever touched. She never even let anyone clean it umm… does that ring any bells at all?”.

Quaxo was lost in thought for a moment, thinking about anything and everything except the will and the deed and his mother. Still, he tried to look thoughtful before he quietly shook his head. Bustopher nodded quietly, noting the discouragement on Quaxo’s face, before turning back to Alister with a sigh, “well it can’t be very far I’m sure, the house is only so big and I know for a fact my sister hadn't left it since she first fell ill. Is there anything else we need to know or is that all?”.

Alister blinked for a moment, shuffled through the papers, and quietly shook his head. Bustopher nodded and reached out his hand towards the graying man, giving him a firm nod as he took his hand to shake, “as Quaxo said before, thank you for everything you’ve done for us Alister. I am certain our family will be in touch for your assistance in the future.”.

Alister nodded, regaining some of his composure as he stood and reached out his hand towards Victoria and Quaxo. Quaxo didn't seem to notice, still lost in thought as he stared down at the floor. Seeing this Victoria quickly stood to take his hand instead, giving Alister a small smile before she reached over and placed a hand on Quaxo’s shoulder, “come on Quaxo I think… I think you need to lie down for a bit. We can look for the deed tomorrow.”.

Quaxo didn’t acknowledge Victoria, but he didn't resist as she carefully helped him up and guided him towards the door. Just as they reached the frame Quaxo stopped, turning around to give Alister a weak smile, “...thank you.”.

Alister returned the smile, giving Quaxo a respectful nod before he felt Victoria pulling him out of the room. They walked in silence, slowly ascending the stairs until they finally pushed the door open to Quaxo’s room. Quaxo couldn’t help but notice how outdated most of the room was: a pile of history books set in the corner, old assignments and schedules on the walls, a rock collection discarded on the floor, all the interests and dreams he had had nearly two years ago. Quaxo had wanted to be a teacher at the time, after all he appreciated the company of children more than adults but… then mother fell ill and everything changed. Everything went wrong.

Quaxo felt Victoria gingerly take his jacket off, prompting him to kick off his shoes before he laid on his side on the large bed. He listened as Victoria once more removed her shoes, sighing quietly as she did, “thank you… for the bandages I mean. I couldn’t have taken another step in these torture devices without them.”.

Victoria audibly sighed as she noticed Quaxo’s vacant expression, bending down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead as she whispered, “get changed into something more comfortable if you can, you really shouldn't sleep in this suit. We’ll figure this out in the morning.”. Quaxo found a small amount of comfort as his sister realized he wouldn't be getting out this bed for a very long time. It was only about three in the afternoon… but the emotional weight of the day had left them exhausted. He sighed as she ran her fingers soothingly through his hair before standing to leave, pausing for just a moment to give Quaxo a small smile, “I’ll see you in the morning Quax… love you.”.

Quaxo listened as the door quietly clicked shut, leaving him alone once again. He listened as horses trotted by outside, birds sang gentle melodies, and the front door shut as Alister left. Quaxo listened as the world continued spinning and moving and running. Quaxo listened for that distant melody of his father’s final creation, but the memory was already fading. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4!!! I'm so sorry I missed uploading last week, to make up for it this chapter is roughly a thousands words longer than normal. I'll try to make sure next chapter is on time for y'all, and thank you for getting this fic to over 200 hits! It means the world to me that people enjoy what I'm writing, and I can't wait to show you more! Enjoy the chapter! :3

Quaxo distinctly felt the absence of Victoria’s usual light and warmth, but he relished in the quiet as he rolled over to stare at the ceiling. Everytime he blinked he felt the hours slowly ticking by, his mind jumbled with nonsense thoughts that prevented him from sleeping but also made time slip by as if he was. By the time he came to his senses, he noticed the sun had set and the lamps outside the house had long ago been lit. The house was silent, and Quaxo was wide awake.

With a grunt he sat up, begrudgingly removing the vest as the buckles began digging into his back. He once more spared a glance about the room, only to find he couldn’t see much of anything in the dim light. He fumbled blindly at his bedside table until the familiar touch of a lantern and matchbox filled his hands. Quaxo had lit the lantern in the dark many times before when he was woken up by mother’s coughing fits, now it was almost second nature. As the warm light filled the space, Quaxo stood and found his eyes immediately drawn to his desk. He walked over silently, feeling the soft texture of the carpet beneath his feet as he brushed his hand over the various books, papers, and other materials scattered across its surface: medical journals, sheets filled with failed formulas, questionably legal magic books, and small jars of various herbs and oils. 

Quaxo felt his heart ache as he recalled the sleepless nights he had spent at this desk, desperately trying to piece together a cure for the disease with no name. It had come from nowhere, presumably the work of some dark twisted magic or a curse from the everlasting herself, and had taken hundreds of lives as it breezed through the kingdom. When mother fell ill Quaxo found that his own magic could hold the disease at bay, allowing him time to study and attempt to discover a long lasting solution. He couldn’t ask anyone for help, the disease took people in days and if anyone learned his mother had survived more than a month they… well it wouldn't have taken a genius to realize what Quaxo had done. He would have been dragged through the streets and hung by the neck for his magic… the whole family would have been shunned from any chance at a peaceful life.

Quaxo’s hands found themselves subconsciously gripping an old book of poetry, something he would read while potential remedies were boiling or burning or god only knows what else. He smiled as he brushed his thumb over the cover, recalling how the book was one of mothers favorites. Mother always had the best taste in literature...

_ “Quaxo darling I think that’s enough for today”, Quaxo blinked his eyes open at his mother’s words, staring up at her as he realized he was sweating. He felt her hand gently reaching forward to brush a stray curl out of the way, smiling warmly but speaking in a scolding tone, “dear, the last thing we need is to have you sick too, whatever you did differently today is clearly doing a number on you.”. _

_ Quaxo sighed as he ran his hands through his hair, brushing the thin sheen of sweat from his brow as he glanced up at her with an embarrassed look, “it’s not more difficult or draining mother, I spent several hours preparing it so it was safe to try I just… I just need a quick break and we’ll finish I promise.”. _

_ Quaxo looked over his mother as he caught his breath, noticing that she had regained some color in her cheeks after he had (partially) administered the new technique. Just a few more tweaks and then it would work completely. He could hardly wait to see her with sparkles in her eye’s and up out of bed. First of course, he needed to finish this session before he could move on and improve for the next. There was still so much work that needed to be done, taking time for anything more than a quick breather was time that was being wasted. _

_ He startled as he felt his mother suddenly move her legs towards the side of the bed as if to stand, a few loose black hairs falling in front of her eyes as she strained to move. He frantically stood up and placed his arms out to move her back in place, now his turn to put on the scolding tone, “mother you shouldn’t move so soon after having that much magical energy pumped into you. Do you need something? If you need something I can easily get it for you.”. _

_ She groaned in exasperation as Quaxo shifted her back into bed, but she didn't voice any protestations outside of that. As she laid back onto the large pillows she gave a quiet sigh as she gazed at the bookshelf, “while you took a break I was hoping I could read something to you. No point in being idle while I’m idle.”. Quaxo chuckled quietly at his mother’s statement before standing up and walking towards the large built in bookshelf on the wall opposite the bay window. His hand brushed over the tomes, mother had read to him since he was very young and her sudden confinement to her bedroom had only increased the frequency of the act. He glanced over the books, his gaze falling upon a large book he hadn’t read before with dark blue binding. _

_ Before Quaxo could remove it, he was interrupted by his mother’s calm protest, “not that one dear, anything but that one.”. Quaxo turned back to her in surprise, mother never said no to any of the books on her shelf. He raised an eyebrow playfully as he glanced back at her, “Weren’t you the one who said there’s no point having a book if you’re never going to read it? Why the sudden change of heart?”. _

_ Ophelia smiled back at him as she sat up slightly straighter in the bed, “for your information I have looked within it before, far too many times to count. I suppose I never… I never fully understood or appreciated it, despite the fact I always wanted to. I don’t think I want to try again right now.”. Quaxo paused for a second before quietly nodding, sparing the book one more passing glance before he shifted his gaze across the bookshelf once more. It took him only a moment to find a second choice, quickly removing it and offering it to his mother for approval. She gave him a small smile before pulling him down on the bed beside her, Quaxo laughed and made no attempts to resist the pull as he cuddled up close beside her and pressed his head against her side. She quickly reached over to grab her reading glasses, perching them on her nose as she read the title with a curious smile, “‘The Historical Battles of the Koira Nation’? Look, I know I said anything else, but I’m not sure I’m up to reading over three thousand pages right now dear.”. _

_ Quaxo shook his head as he quickly flipped through the pages, smiling as he landed on his favorite chapter, “I don’t wish for you to read all of it mother, just this part right here.”. Ophelia squinted at the page before a strained laugh escaped her lips, she coughed for a few seconds before giving her son an incredulous look, “‘The Awful Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles’? Goodness how long ago did Gus write that damn opera about this? Eight? Nine years ago?”. _

_ Quaxo chuckled slightly before he effortlessly responded, “Twelve. Me and Victoria were Pollicle children who ran around causing trouble while the policeman chased us about. One of the greatest summers of my life, almost made me want to become a performer…”. Ophelia noticed as Quaxo trailed off, his eyes vacant for a moment as he lost himself in thought and pressed himself firmer against her side. She wrapped an arm around him to pull him closer, smiling quietly as she turned to the book and began to read, “Before the great unification that spawned the nation of Koira, the two most prominent tribes were the Pekes and the Pollicles. They were  _ _ proud and implacable passionate foes that had feuded and fought for ages. While this great battle did not mark the end of their bitter rivalry, it can be said that it marked the apex…”. _

_ Quaxo felt his eyes slipping closed as his mother spoke in her soothing voice… perhaps he would just rest his eyes for a minute. As he let them slip close, he could have sworn he saw his mother smiling a bit brighter as she gently closed the book. _

Quaxo’s eyes shot open as the memory waned, his heart suddenly beating far too quickly as he stumbled into the hallway. His mother’s room was just down the hall, but Quaxo felt as though it was taking an eternity to traverse the small distance. His heart was beating far too fast and his head was pounding from a lack of sleep. He didn’t hesitate to push the door open, his nostrils set alight with the quickly fading smell of Lavender. He shook himself out of the stupor quickly, racing to the shelf and holding the lantern close to examine the bindings: “The Jellicle Family Lineage”, “The Cursed Prince”, “The Awful Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles”.

Finally he stilled as he came across the familiar blue binding, a thin layer of dust showing that it hadn’t been touched in a very long time. Quaxo brought the lantern closer as he reached in and carefully pulled the book from the shelf, stumbling backwards to sit on the bed as he read the title, “The Voice of the Magician”. He turned it to examine the cover, dark blue in color and covered with small gold swirls and lines depicting the flow of magical energy. From what Quaxo recalled it was an old book of fables and stories, one of the few books that wasn’t ordered to be destroyed during the inquisition. 

As Quaxo’s finger absently ran over the side of the tome, he quickly realized that pages felt flat and smooth. Turning the book over in his hand revealed the book did not have pages at all, it wasn’t even a book. It was smooth on all sides and moving aside a small panel painted into the side revealed a lock. Quaxo felt a small smile growing on his face as he stared at the book and realized what was undoubtedly inside, but the smile fell when he recalled he had no idea where to begin looking for a key. For a moment Quaxo just sat there in stunned silence, the world flickering in the dancing light of the lantern as he held his future in his hands, just out of reach. 

Quaxo felt himself shudder as he felt a cool breeze against his back, turning to realize no one had closed the window since he had opened it earlier in the day. Carefully Quaxo placed the book box down besides the lantern, standing up on shaky legs to move to the window. He placed a hand on the frame and stared out into the garden, the area drenched moonlight with small shadows forming from the distant lamplight of the street. He let himself sink to his knees, laying his head on the cushion of the nook as he stared out at the moonlit garden. He felt his eyes trailing upward, staring at the beautiful half moon that blanketed the sky in silvery light, the everlasting looking down upon the world as it slumbered. 

Quaxo had never been very religious. That’s not to say he didn't believe in the everlasting, he just always had more pertinent things to worry about he supposed. Now though, as he sat there alone on the windowsill, Quaxo found his right hand falling over his heart as he stared up at the silver beacon in the sky, “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to… to speak with you. I mean I could pray, recite ancient rites that idolize you as a being of infinite power and good but… your not a being of infinite power and good are you? If you were… then you would have given me the power to save her…”.

Quaxo felt his fist clench, gripping the soft cushion beneath him tightly as he tears began to build in the corner of his eyes, “you gave my mother love, and then you took him away. You gave me a gift, and then made it a crime to use. You gave me magic and then made me watch helplessly as I prolonged the inevitable! I spent my entire life trying to impress you and prove I could make a difference: I studied, I prayed, I did everything right and sacrificed so much and… and none of it mattered…”. 

Quaxo sighed shakily, unclenching his fist as he turned his back to the window. His heart beating hard in his chest as he tried to push back the tears. He felt a deep longing for the comfort that the moonlight once brought him, but now the silver light just left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Nothing I’ve ever done has mattered…”.

He stared at the floor in silence, noticing how the amber glow of the lantern rivaled the glow of the moonlight. Something shimmered at the edge of Quaxo’s vision, and he glanced up to notice how the moonlight reflected off the small metal lock on the side of the book. Something stirred inside of him, like a small match had been struck and was slowly growing brighter and brighter. He felt himself shuffling on his knees over to the bed, his arms stretching forward to pull the box across the white bedspread to sit in front of him. As he brushed his hand over the still shimmering lock, he could almost imagine it's innerworkings. He had been going to university to study history and education, but Quaxo had always been fascinated all his life by the inner workings of music boxes and intricate devices. People said he got that from his father...

Quaxo shook this thought away as he placed his palm over the lock, closing his eyes and imagining what the inside might look like. He could practically see the inner workings, imagining small pieces clicking and shifting around as if a key had been inserted. His hand felt warm and he was quickly startled out of his thoughts by a small click. Looking down he noticed the lock was still there, though the shimmering was slowly fading, and that the cover of the book was now slightly ajar. He stared in stunned silence, turning back over his shoulder as the moonlight shined down into the room. Had he… had he just done that? With almost all books on magic having either been confiscated or burned he had spent most of his life studying practical books and obscure literature to try and learn but… he had never done anything like this.

A cool breeze from the open window quickly tuned Quaxo back into the moment, as his eyes moved away from the window and towards the now open container. Quaxo shifted slightly on his knees, kneeling before the bed almost reverently as he slowly opened the lid. The first thing he noted was a ring of keys. As he removed it from the box he noted each one seemed to be a different size and material. He listened to the jingling sound they made as he brushed his hand over them. 

The next thing he saw was a small metal sphere, familiar patterns etched into its surface and a small button present on its side. Quaxo carefully picked it up, cradling it in his cupped hands as he gently pushed the button. There was a series of quiet clicks before the sphere blossomed open, eliciting a hauntingly familiar melody and revealing the small ballerina figurine hidden within. Her paint was slightly faded and the music stalled at certain points but… but it was still the same melody.

For a moment the world faded away as Quaxo watched the ballerina spin, the chilling memory filling the otherwise silent evening. He remembered during the storms how her melody became the only thing that could soothe him and Victoria into slumber, the fear of their father journeying on the churning waves making sleep nearly impossible. Her music had been a comfort, an unsaid promise that one day the man who created her dancing form would come back. Quaxo remembered how betrayed he felt when she broke that promise.

Quaxo carefully set the ballerina down as she continued her dance, turning his attention to the small pile of papers still tucked in the box. Quaxo gingerly shuffled through them, flipping through pages of bills, payments, and other legal documentation until he came to the last page. The writing on it was grand and the official seal on the bottom left no room for doubt, this was the deed to the manor. Quaxo scanned the document, feeling his heart leap in his chest as he realized the deed was already in his name. When could mother have had it changed? How long has it been changed?

Quaxo felt his eyes drift from the paper as a sudden light caught his eyes, gaze shifting to find there was still one more thing within the book. He felt his hands tremble slightly as the deed slipped from his fingers, now laying on the bed momentarily forgotten as Quaxo shakily picked up the photograph nestled in the bottom of the box. A black and white scene depicted a family, a happy and complete family. A woman in a lovely dress, grass stains and all, clutched a swaddled baby to her chest. Her black hair was pinned back in gentle braids as she smiled warmly at the camera. To her right a man was on one knee, his suit bearing similar stains and his light hair an organized mess. He was smiling as well, eyes glimmering with pride and a hint of childlike glee as his hand rested on the small boy’s shoulders. The boy in question wore the brightest smile, his mop of curly hair perfectly blown out of his face as his hands cradled a small familiar sphere. In the background stood a house, grand and made of brick. The large windows and large porch a sign of comfort and security, the neat hedges and garden work and sign of beauty and wealth, and the ivy slowly inching up the walls a symbol of a growing legacy. A beautiful home for the perfect family.

Quaxo stared blankly at the photograph, remembering this last time he had seen his father. If anyone else had looked at the photo they would have seen the superficial image, but all Quaxo saw was a ghost of the life he once knew. A photo of lost dreams. He didn’t realize he had begun crying until a small tear drop landed on the smiling child’s face, momentarily blurring the otherwise pristine image. Quaxo startled, quickly turning the picture over to wipe off the moisture in order to prevent any damage. It was then that he noticed the writing on the back, a single word that made Quaxo’s heart flutter. A long lost promise that, as Quaxo’s eyes strayed back to the deed, could finally be brought to fruition.

‘Home’


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 5!  
> Wow I did not think I would get this far, but we actually made it to the manor! Hope you all enjoy and are having a nice day (it's raining where I am but that's what tumblr is for)! :3

Quaxo gingerly lifted the curtain blocking the window to view the landscape as it passed by, admiring the sheer amount of green that covered the area. He had spent most of his life in the city, and though there was a decent amount of greenery in the gated trees and small gardens, there was nothing like this. City folks liked a spark of green to brighten the stone and brick, but anymore than a spark was a mess waiting to happen. The usual stone and mortar had faded away at least a half hour ago, being replaced with rolling fields and dirt roads that muffled the horses' steps as they trotted along. It had taken him nearly an hour to find a carriage driver that would take him out this far to begin with, most didn’t delve into the country and those who did rarely went further than an hour out of the city. Still, he had managed to find a willing driver, and now about two hours later he was surrounded by sights and smells he had not experienced in what felt like a lifetime.

After discovering the deed, and all that went with it, Quaxo had naturally informed Victoria and Bustopher, both of whom seemed intrigued and excited by the prospect it put forth. Their attention was short lived of course, for the very next day Bustopher set himself on the task of sorting through various materials and belongings he had purchased for his sister and Victoria was already packing to delve deeper into the city. The outer districts the siblings had lived in were very well off, neat two story homes with a small lawn in front and a private garden in the back. Two servants was considered a basic necessity, though the Jone’s household ignored this, and the area was strictly populated by those who could afford to detach from the must of the inner city but still needed to be close enough to monitor their personal business’. 

Quaxo couldn't help considering, as he watched Victoria pack her things, that Victoria would most likely never return to this largely detached lifestyle she had been raised in. Victoria was always very hands on with her work, and she had dreamed of her chance to finally be “a part of the inner workings” of it all. Once she got a whiff of that inner city air, he had a feeling she would never look back. 

Quaxo smiled for his sister, holding her close and politely nodding at her promises to visit him in the country (she made note to put a more bougie tone over the phrase), but he felt his stomach sink as he closed himself up in his room. Mother had been dead for just over a week, and the striking realization that everyone else was now moving forward shook him to say the least. It was to be expected though, after all he had spent the past two years by mother’s side for that exact reason. He had not wished to stifle Victoria’s ambitions or Bustopher’s prestige, so he had simply sacrificed his own. He had never really considered the true consequences of that until now, now that he held the physical manifestation of one of his greatest fears.

Moving on.

He had run his thumb over the ring of keys, memorizing every ridge and carving with his fingers as if it would disappear in a moment and leave him truly defenseless. For that’s what it was for him, a promise for safety from the looks, the questions, the expectations. He knew what his next step was, the true problem was he was almost too scared to take it. He stayed frozen in this fear for another week before someone finally stepped in. That someone was Bustopher who, true to his training, had given Quaxo a firm lecture with the gentlest voice he could muster (which frankly wasn’t very gentle). The urging need not be repeated in full length, but the overall message was simple. Whether Quaxo had the strength or the bravery to take the first step didn’t matter, his mother had given the house to him the very least he could do was go visit it.

Thus Quaxo found himself here, sitting in a carriage after being politely shoved out the door to visit his childhood home. Quaxo felt himself lurch in his seat as the carriage suddenly ground to a halt. He barely managed to catch the ring of keys before they slipped from his fingers, fumbling for a moment before he was finally able to still himself. His sudden adrenaline spike was calmed as he heard a voice coming from outside, “you alright in there mate? Sorry for the jostlin I gave ya, passed by the gate by mistake.”.

Quaxo shook his head slightly as he pushed himself over to the window, watching as the cart was turned around to face an arch seemingly woven into the treeline. The structure framed the road that led deeper into the woods, though any gate that had once blocked the road off had since fallen away from time and disrepair. Quaxo couldn't blame the driver for passing by mistake, the gate had been overcome in ivy and other plant growth, covering the rusted metal in a thick layer of green. Quaxo watched as the driver navigated the horses through the arch, sunlight becoming patched as the thick canopy of trees blocked the golden rays. The road was winding and long, yet Quaxo’s eyes were locked on the leafy canopy. He blinked his eyes quietly at the patchwork of light and leaves, his mind falling back as the carriage moved forward…

_ “What do you see dear?”. _

_ Quaxo blinked his eyes, startled out of his stupor by his mother's voice. He fumbled to sit up on the blanket, his smaller limbs making his movements less graceful than he would have preferred. He smiled as his mother came to sit on the blanket beside him, a handful of books cradled in the crook of her right arm. He instantly pressed into her large skirt, brushing his hands over the soft blue fabric for a moment before realizing he had been asked a question, “Looking at clouds mommy. Looked like a ship”. _

_ Quaxo blushed slightly as his mother playfully giggled, watching her smile at him before glancing up at the cloud dotted sky. It was the first pleasant day they had had in weeks. Quaxo had wondered if the rain and cloudy gray skies were ever going to go away, or if he was doomed to be confined to the inside of that house forever. He had run out of interesting things to look at within the first day, he was genuinely considering asking mother if it was possible to “die from boredom” as father had once said. It was a relief to be outdoors again, sitting on the soft picnic blanket that covered the still wet grass. Auntie Jelly had decided to come over to visit and enjoy a little picnic with Mother, baby Victoria, and himself which only made the day more wonderful in his eyes.  _

_ Quaxo stirred himself from his thoughts as he felt his mother grab him gently by the waist and pull both of them flat on their backs against the blanket. Quaxo giggled happily at the playful gesture, squirming slightly in his mother’s grip before stilling as she tilted his chin towards the sky, “could you show me which one dear?”. _

_ The small boy nodded, quickly lifting his hands to push a mop of black curls out of his face as he scanned the sky above. It only took a moment of searching before he spotted it, quickly pointing to the puffy white sky ship with a bright smile, “there, mama there! Is a big cloudy boat… it looks like daddy’s boat!”. _

_ Quaxo beamed as mother smiled and laughed, nodding her head in agreement as she wistfully looked at the fluffy white ship. Quaxo allowed his hand to push into the soft fabric of his mother’s apron, blinking calmly as he stared at the blue fabric, “momma? When is daddy coming back?”. _

_ Ophelia sighed quietly, gently lifting Quaxos chin to give him a reassuring smile, “Quaxo darling, he's only been gone for a few weeks now. I know you miss him but don’t worry, he’ll be home before you know it.”. _

_ Quaxo’s smile returned, pushing himself up to hug his mother tightly around the waist. He felt his mother’s hands gently pulling him close, the smell of lavender and flour filling his nose as he felt the sun warming his back. The moment was cut short as a voice cut over the lawn, “Ophelia? Could you come inside for a moment?”. _

_ Quaxo looked up to see Aunt Jellylorum standing on the porch, cradling little Victoria in her arms. Her curly hair was pulled back in a bun, and her yellow dress was still covered by the apron she had been wearing for baking. Aunt Jellylorum always loved baking, it seemed she never went anywhere without a few treats tucked into her satchel. Her normally warm demeanor was diminished greatly however by the worried frown on her face, her gentle rocking of the baby in her arm seeming more instinctive than caring. Quaxo felt his mother sit up straighter, confusion on her face at Jellylorum’s apparent distress, “Jelly what is it? Is something the matter?”. _

_ Jelly held Victoria tighter at the question, to the point where the baby made a quiet sound of protest at how tightly she was being held, “t-there are two men at the door. They said they have news about… about James.”. _

_ Quaxo nearly fell flat on his face as his mother quickly stood, looking up in confusion as he saw her expression seemingly darken. After a tense moment he saw her glance down at the picnic blanket, eyes falling on the small musical orb Jameson had made for the children. Carefully she picked it up, hands shaking slightly as she clicked the small button and handed the device to Quaxo. Quaxo looked at the ballerina within with his usual transfixed expression as he heard his mother’s worried voice, “Q-Quaxo dear… just stay here for a moment alright? Mommy will be right back.”. _

_ Quaxo looked up for a moment as he watched his mother move towards the manor, trembling hands smoothing back any loose hairs that had arisen during their play. The gentle melody washed over his ears as he felt his gaze stray upward to try and find the cloud ship again. He searched for a few minutes before the melody stopped, and he realized it had disappeared… _

“Mr. Jones? Mr. Jones you alright back there?”

Quaxo shook himself out of the memory, loosening what he realized was a painfully tight grip on the ring of keys in his hands. He took a deep breath before he responded to the worried sounding carriage driver, “y-yes I… I’m fine. Is something the matter?”.

The response that came made Quaxo’s heart flutter, “no problem at all sir, just thought I would tell you we’re here.”.

Quaxo couldn't have moved towards the door faster if he tried, frantically pushing the door open to gaze upon the building before him. The brick manor was two stories, with large windows dotted along the sides. Ivy crept up the walls in places, complimenting the overgrown lawn that was in desperate need of trimming and weeding. The place was massive, its large silhouette eclipsing the afternoon sun and covering a majority of the lawn in shadow. Still, despite the size and grandeur of the facade, Quaxo felt his heart warm as he looked over the exterior.

He was stunned out of his daze as he heard a low whistle, head whipping around to see the driver looking over the place with a similarly dazed expression, “nice place you got here. Y’know, I’ve driven down this way nearly a dozen times and I never realized it was here. Damn place is in the middle of nowhere.``. He looked to Quaxo, noting what was surely a stunned expression on his face, before quietly shrugging, “Well glad I could get you here safely mate. Sorry I can’t stay for tea, got other strangers I need to cart into the middle of the woods.”.

Quaxo blinked a few times before he realized what he meant, quickly grabbing his things and handing the driver a small pouch with payment for the ride. The driver tossed the pouch between his hands for a moment before giving Quaxo a satisfied nod, seemingly happy with the pouch weight. As he got back up onto his seat at the front he gave Quaxo a smile, “well you have a good one mate, try not to get lost in your labyrinth in the woods.”.

Quaxo watched silently as the man laughed, before cracking the reins and disappearing back down the path to the main road. Quaxo stood for a moment, listening as a breeze rustled through the overgrown lawn and the sound of horse hooves faded. Finally he managed to turn, eyes looking up at the behemoth of a house sitting before him. For a moment he questioned if he should chase after the cart driver and beg for him to take him back to the city, chalk this up as another terrible idea. Then he looked up a little higher and saw the window that must have led to the attic, a beautiful circular window of multicolored stained glass. 

Quaxo’s feet were moving before he even could question himself, walking up the creaky front steps and approaching the large red door. Quaxo recalled father once telling him that a red door was meant to be a symbol of welcome, but as Quaxo looked at the slightly chipped red paint he felt anything but. His hand fumbled with the key ring, finally settling on a large bronze one with little flowers etched into it. Glancing up he noted they matched the flowers etched into the door frame, and he carefully inserted it into the lock. 

Desperation, fear, hope… Quaxo wasn’t sure what to feel as he heard a quiet click from somewhere within as the key turned. A breath, then two, and finally Quaxo steeled himself to push open the door for the first time in twenty years. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave any thoughts, critiques, or opinions below! If you have any questions feel free to send me an ask on tumblr at @bullseyegames! I update once a week so... see you soon! :3


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